


It wasn't him

by AniZH



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-05-02 02:48:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5231027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AniZH/pseuds/AniZH
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the newest incidents, Minerva just has to visit Euphemia. She hopes that Euphemia doesn't know yet, will never know, but of course she has gotten the Daily Prophet. Minerva is so sorry, after everything Euphemia has done for Sirius Black.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It wasn't him

**Author's Note:**

> Hello. :) I wrote this oneshot some time ago in German and now translated it (and changed the name of James' parents as we didn't know it back then). The idea behind this is: What would have Euphemia thought if she had still been alive when James and Lily were killed? Also, I kind of put Euphemia in the Order but not in a great capacity. That's at leats the idea - it's barely mentioned.  
> I think that's all I have to say. I hope you enjoy reading it.

Minerva had always liked the Potters. They were that kind of people who just stood by what they thought, who always spoke out against injustice and who never believed in adjusting to be higher up in society.  
Yes, they were considered pure blooded but many generations ago they had detached themselves from that kind of thinking.  
But it was the Order that had gotten Minerva to really know Euphemia. They had gotten along well. Minerva had always loved the sincerity in the other woman. How she had been able to speak her thoughts but still be full of kindness and love.  
In the end, that kindness had destroyed her...  
Minerva knew that she had to visit Euphemia. She knew that she could very well be the only one who still thought of the lonely woman.  
That’s why, two days after the funeral, she knocked on the door of the small apartment.  
After Fleamont had died three years ago, Euphemia, James and Lily had had long talks before Euphemia had sold the Potters’ mansion and had moved into this apartment. James and Lily hadn’t wanted to live in the mansion and Euphemia had decided to sell it and give the money to her son.  
Euphemia looked much weaker than Minerva had anticipated.  
She had seemed weak at the funeral already, ill and old. But not that much.  
There had been many people at the funeral. Everyone had kept a respectful distance. Aurors had been inbetween the others, not only to grieve. After all, there still were deatheaters out there and at a big funeral like this – and this funeral especially -, everyone had been able to imagine someone to attack.  
But everything had been good. Minerva had stood close to the front, with Albus, a few people from the Order and Euphemia. Remus had also been there. First, he had stood hidden in the back but Euphemia had directed him forward so that he had been able to truly say good-bye as well.  
Nobody had asked for Sirius or Peter. Nobody had known what had happened to Peter. Nobody had known where Sirius had been. Albus had sent members of the Order to search for both of them.  
“Hello, Minerva,” Euphemia said smiling, still with so much kindness in her face though she had lost everything the life had ever given her.  
“Hello, Euphemia,” Minerva answered and did her best to return the smile. “I hope it’s not inconvinient. How are you?”  
Euphemia didn’t answer the question but she took a step aside to let Minerva in while she said: “Come in. I’m making tea. You can have one as well.”  
Minerva didn’t want to make Euphemia more work, she just wanted to give her someone to talk to. But they could drink tea together. Actually, tea was a good sign. Euphemia still did ordinary things like making tea.  
Minerva stepped inside and pulled of her heavy cloak and hung it up in the corridor.  
Euphemia watched her and then came the question, quick and sudden, as if she had waited forever to ask: “How is Harry?”  
“I don’t know,” Minerva answered honestly, turning to face her again. “I think he is well. I know he is still with them.”  
Minerva hadn’t understood why Harry had to go to Lily’s sister who hadn’t even seen Harry once, when Euphemia was still there. But Albus had persisted.  
She was sorry for Euphemia, was Harry after all the last thing on this whole wide world left to her. Now, she wasn’t even able to see him anymore. She wasn’t even able to see for herself that he was still alive and well. She had lost him like she had lost everything else.  
And Minerva knew that Albus had talked about it with Euphemia. Euphemia knew the reasons Minerva didn’t. Euphemia knew.  
But that didn’t make it any easier on her. So, Minerva just had to say: “Euphemia. Let us go and talk to Albus. I am sure we can arrange for you to see Harry at least once in a while.”  
Euphemia shook her head slightly, looked in Minerva’s eyes and directly said: “I will die soon.”  
Minerva wanted to protest. Euphemia was younger than her after all. She was healthy. She didn’t have to die. But she didn’t protest because she knew it was true. Nobody could deny it. Euphemia hadn’t had enough reason to live anymore. She would die.  
So, Minerva let Euphemia continue with a heavy heart: “Harry has lost everything, just like me. What kind of person would I be if I would visit him for the next few days or weeks, remind him of everything he lost, just to suddenly disappear as well and let him loose someone else? He has to start from scratch. He is... He is still a little child. He can do it. I would just make it harder for him.”  
It hurt Minerva unbelievably to hear that but how could she argue against that?  
Euphemia smiled again, faintly this time, before she turned and went towards the living room. “Come in.”  
She offered Minerva to sit down on the armchair, then she disappeared inside the kitchen to get the promised tea.  
And while Minerva sat down, she had already seen the news paper on the coffee table.  
How much she had hoped Euphemia wouldn’t get the Daily Prophet anymore. How much she had hoped Euphemia would live isolated enough.  
But... She had seen it. She had read it. After all, it was the headline on the front page. As if all he had done already, wasn’t enough... Now, he had had to do this...  
Minerva took the paper and looked at the front page, looked at the face with the hollow laugh, at the eyes which showed the same madness she was sure to have had seen in so many other Blacks.  
She only heard the clinking of the cups, when Euphemia had already arrived in the living room again and put the tray on the coffee table with shaking hands.  
Of course she had seen that Minerva had looked at the photo on the front page. And Minerva asked herself if anyone had talked to her about it. If anyone had talked to her about the big betrayal. If she had gotten the chance to talk about her feelings and to work through them with someone.  
“I am sorry about what he did. Especially what he did to you and... your family,” Minerva carefully said while she put the paper back on the table.  
Euphemia looked at her with a blank expression and Minerva looked back at the photo and she herself felt suddenly too terrible. She hadn’t talked to anyone about it herself. And she herself felt hurt and betrayed. With whom else you were able to speak about it if not with someone who felt exactly the same?  
“I remember,” she therefore said “how he had gotten to Hogwarts for the first time. I called out his name and I was so sure the Hat would say Slytherin. After all, he was a Black. But it said Gryffindor. Albus and I exchanged a glance and... we talked about it later in the evening. I was so sure there would be problems with him and James, James being a Potter and everything. And there were problems first. But somehow they became friends and... I really thought Sirius was different. I really thought he was done with the Blacks.”  
How impressed she had been when she had heard that he had run away from his parents. How much she had admired that Sirius had been able to be himself against the enormous pressure of the Blacks.  
How much she had suddenly believed that love and friendship were of more value than old teachings and education.  
“Minerva,” Euphemia finally raised her voice again and Minerva looked up at her, saw how she pointed at the newspaper as she said: “I don’t know what happened in that street. I don’t know who killed those muggles and Peter. But... It wasn’t him.”  
Minerva hadn’t bargained on that. How could Euphemia deny it? The surviving muggle in that street had saw what had happened after all. They had heard what Peter had said before Sirius had killed him. That he had talked about the betrayel of Lily and James.  
And that was the worst thing. That was the thing, Minerva hurt the most over. And that was the thing that just wasn’t deniable.  
“He was Lily’s and James’ Secret Keeper.”  
“I know,” Euphemia confirmed. “But... I don’t know what happened. I don’t know what James and Sirius schemed again. I just know... Sirius didn’t betray them. It wasn’t him.”  
And Minerva was certain Euphemia just had to tell herself that. How else could she live with the fact that she took Sirius in like a second son? Sirius who betrayed her actual son? How else could she live with the fact that she had actually liked or even loved him?  
Even Minerva felt hurt and betrayed. How would Euphemia have to feel if she would accept the truth?  
Minerva didn’t want to destroy her, so she didn’t say anything about it. She just felt unbelievable sympathy for this woman and didn’t argue when Euphemia repeated herself: “It wasn’t him.”  
She let Euphemia serve her the tea and then they started to talk about the weather and other trivial things.

Sometimes, Minerva went to different graves. Over time, she had lost many people, some closer to her than others. Every few years, she visited some of them.  
It was the first time after her funeral that she finally visited Euphemia’s grave again. Fleamont had gotten a double grave and it had been Euphemia’s last wish to be layed down next to him as soon as it was time. Of course she gotten her last wish.  
Now, Minerva kneeled down in front of the double grave that wasn’t well kept. Euphemia and Fleamont didn’t have any close relatives except Harry who didn’t even know of the grave.  
There was a small spell on the grave like on many others of magicians who hadn’t had any relatives anymore because everyone had died in the war or simliar things, so that it wouldn’t overgrow.  
A bigger spell, which would keep everything neat, would be too conspicuous on the muggle-graveyards, would noone every see anyone doing any work on those graves.  
Minerva closed her eyes for a moment until a loud noise made her jump. She closed her hand around her wand when she saw that a big black dog had let fallen two bouquets on the grave in front of her and then sat down.  
Sie knew she had to admonish him. He wasn’t allowed out of the house. She had to admonish him and also tell Albus about it, so he could talk some sense into him.  
But... Could she actually blame him? Could she actually forbid him to visit the graves of these two people?  
So, it weren’t disapproving words coming over her lips. Instead, quietly and keeping her eyes on the tombstone, she said: “She always believed in your innocence.”  
“I know,” a voice said next to her and she looked to her side. He had transformed back and now sat next to her as the human being he was.  
He looked at the tombstone as well with empty eyes that once had been so full of secrets and joy, that now just showed some expression whenever Harry was around him, which otherwise was just empty and dull and blank.  
An unbelievingly faint smile went over his face.  
“After all, she is my mother.”


End file.
